


Six Shots of Whiskey

by slowmobanana



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adult Language, Comedy, GTA!AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowmobanana/pseuds/slowmobanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fake AH Crew is worth their weight in gold, when referred to the bounty on their head. However, when BONE, a mysterious new gang, takes Los Santos by storm (and steals away with the Fake AH Crew's money and weaponry), they team up with three ragtag police officers and become Los Santos only hope of survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Bullets Exchange

 “Oh, shit!”

 If Michael had a dime for every time he heard that, he would make more money than on any heist ever completed successfully – and they had completed a few amazing heists. Of course, if there was anything to know about their small ragtag team of criminals, it would be that there was no such thing as 'everything going as planned'.

 Ever.

 “Ryan?” Naturally, Ray was somewhere between genuinely worried and amused, because heists were exciting and, in turn, amusing. “What the hell happened?”

 “Uh, well...”

 Before Ryan could give a proper explanation, Jack immediately intercepted the line with a, “Geoff? Geoff?” but received no answer from their leader.

 “Yeah, about that...”

 Ray slammed his sniper rifle against the ground and yanked on the hood of his sweater. “What are you doing!? You said you weren't going to kill anybody!”

 “He isn't dead! He's just a little...unconscious.”

 Gavin only offered a loud, “Awh!” in reaction to the accident and Michael slammed a palm against his forehead. “What do you mean 'a little unconscious'!?”

 “No time to explain! I need back-up! I've got the money.”

 Ray groaned and threw the sniper rifle strap over his shoulder. “Yeah, I'm on my way. Because I've got all these bikes lined but, I have a feeling we aren't going to be using them.” With a huff, he threw one leg over a yellow motorcycle and revved the engine. The bike jerked forward and offered a good kick of speed. It bolted across the roof towards a tilted billboard on the other side. Ray treated the billboard like a ramp and jumped off the edge, only to discover a secondary roof below him. “Oh, shit.”

 The front wheel of the bike bounced backwards and threw the rider off before sliding, mountless, off the roof. Ray groaned and forced himself to his feet, staggering to the edge and peering over where his motorcycle fell.

 Below the edge was a good six or seven story drop; high enough to hurt, low enough that the parachute was not an option. He started a perimeter around the building in search of a ladder when Ryan was back in the earpiece again. “Ray, where are you?!”

 “Uh,” he began, giving up his search for a way down. “I'm stuck on a roof.”

 Jack landed the cargobob in a dark alley and Gavin jumped out, one arm around an assault rifle and the other on his earpiece, which, like Michael and Jack's, was large to cancel out the loud whirr of the helicopter blades above them. “How are you stuck on the roof?!”

 “There's another roof below the– Just fucking pick up Ryan!”

 “Yeah, guys. Just fucking pick me up.”

 “Shut the hell up, Ryan,” Michael snapped, yanking his assault rifle from inside the helicopter and jogging down the alley where a black Roosevelt waited for him, with Jack and Gavin not far behind him. Michael jumped into the front seat, Jack in the passenger, and Gavin in the back. “Set a way point, Jack.”

 “On it.”

 Michael slammed on the gas pedal the Roosevelt and the tires squealed. On the dashboard, the navigational system beeped and began to speak in a monotone voice, leading Michael out of the alley and turning right. Ryan wasn't too far away, thankfully, since the cargobob had been holding onto the armoured truck before everything went shit. (They had gotten lucky with the cargobob; the thing had been smoking before they landed it.)

 The Roosevelt was there before the cops, and Ryan had already packed away all of the money into dufflebags. Geoff laid beside the truck, unmoving but definitely alive. The tires screeched to a halt and everyone jumped out of the Roosevelt to help Ryan pack the money to the trunk; Jack immediately was by Geoff's side, trying to stir him back to consciousness. “God, Ryan. What did you do?”

 “Well, I was opening the door to the truck. And, Geoff was standing in a really bad place. And I may or may not have accidentally hit him really hard...in the head...with the back door.”

 “Ryan!”

 “Mistakes were made! He's still alive, and that's all that matters.”

 Then Ray's voice came through the earpiece again. “Guys, this asshole's gonna call the police on me. Apparently, he's gonna see if they can help me get down but...I think that's a really bad idea.”

 Michael burst into a good round of laughter as he threw the last dufflebag into the back. “Don't worry, Ray, we'll be there soon.”

 Then Jack yelled, “Aw, shit! Cops!” and everyone was panicking suddenly. Jack sat Geoff in the backseat. “There's only four seats in here.”

 Ryan looked at Gavin. “Someone's gonna have to hang off the side of the vehicle.”

 “Why are ya looking at me!? ... Oh. What, I don't hang on well to the side! You all know that!” While Gavin complained, the rest of the crew jumped into the Roosevelt and Michael slammed on the gas. With one last yell of protest (and then fear as he realized they were going to leave without him), Gavin jumped up onto the side of the car and grabbed the top just as the car took off in a squeal of tires.

 Behind them, a single police car slid around the corner, sirens blowing full sound and lights spinning wildly. The tires created skid marks on the ground as the vehicle slid. The driver stomped on the gas pedal and his passenger yelped, grasping the handle bar above his head. “Burnie, watch what you're doing!”

 “I am!” the driver yelled in protest but the car only jerked forward faster, the officer in the back slamming against the back seat just as he was peeling himself off the driver side window.

 “Bloody hell! Really!? Was that really necessary!?”

 Burnie grinned. “Always.” And he punched it again.

 Gavin yipped as the police car drew closer at a much faster rate than expected. “Michael! Faster! Faster!”

 Michael groaned and pushed on the pedal. “This thing can only go so fast, you know!”

 “What?” Ryan, in the back, had been staring out the back window at the fast approaching cop car. “I thought the handling sucked, not the acceleration.”

 “The car sucks, okay!? I got it because it looked cool and Gavin and Ray could look cool hanging off the sides.” At that moment, a “Bloody hell!” screamed from outside the car but no one took a glance to care. “We should've taken the Chrome vehicle...”

 The man in the back of the cop car leaned out of his window and loaded an MP5. “Lockin' and loadin'!”

 “Aim to kill!” yelled the passenger.

 The man in the back waited for confirmation from the driver, but received none. Sighing, he raised his gun and trained it for the back wheels. He opened fire and Gavin screamed like never before. “They're shooting at us! They're _shooting at us_!”

 “What's so surprising about that!?” the blond inside the car shouted, grabbing Gavin's arm to keep him from falling.

 “Ray, we're closing in on your position. Get ready to jump. Gavin--”

 “On it!” The Brit grabbed the edge of the car and hoisted himself up onto the roof. Bullets grazed the roof and ricocheted into the signs of the stores they passed. Gavin flattened himself against the roof, and Michael's voice was in his ear again.

 “On my mark, Ray, jump for it!”

 “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

 Ryan reached down underneath Jack's seat and pulled out an automatic rifle, leaning out the window (which was now clear since Gavin was no long outside anymore), and he pulled the trigger, unleashing a rain of bullets on the car behind them. The cop's vehicle swerved and the man in the back window yelled with confusion. His gun waved in the air, firing off bullets in every direction.

 “Mark!”

 “That's not a--” Ray leaped off the building roof top just as the Roosevelt came into view and he threw out his arms. Gavin leaned up and held out his hand to catch Ray as he fell from the sky. For a moment, everything seems to slow down. A bullet grazed the top of the car and one caught in Ray's jacket.

 In that moment, hands connected and Gavin grabbed the other's wrist as tight as possible. Ray slammed into the side of the Roosevelt with a loud bang, then rolled and flew out behind the vehicle. The only thing keeping him from hitting the road was Gavin's death grip.

 “Holy shit!” yelled the man in the back of the cop car.

 “Fire, Gruchy!” yelled the passenger and Burnie swerved the car in case the grip failed and Ray would end up under his wheels. Gruchy panicked and continued to fire off at the wheels of the Roosevelt without trying to hit Ray. “Your aim is shit!”

 Ahead, the police force had already pulled together a barricade.

 “Michael, Michael, Michael!” yelled Jack and the brunette in the driver's seat hollered in frustration.

 “Shut the fuck up, Jack!”

 The Roosevelt struck a hard left into an alley and Gavin and Ray screamed in protest as they were thrown to one side and the Brit rolled off the top of the car. They fell for a moment, then stopped abruptly. A tight grip squeezed Gavin around the stomach, and the blond absolutely refused to let Ray go, no matter how much his arm was hurting. Turning his head to look at his side, he saw Ryan with his arms around Gavin's waist, holding on as tightly as possible to keep them from falling off.

 Ray yelped as his hip and thigh collided with the ground and Gavin heaved a mighty pull, tugging the Puerto Rican to the back of the car. “Holy shit, Gavin! Since when were you Superman!?”

 “Gotta make up for it somehow, Ray! I'm more impressed by Ryan myself!”

 “You weigh about the same as a house plant.”

 “Weird comparison, Ryan.”

 “Shut the fuck up!” Michael yelled again.

 Behind them, the police car that had been following them before was slowly beginning to catch up. Ray huffed loudly, then held out a hand. “Sniper!”

 “Sniper!” yelled Gavin to Ryan.

 “Sniper!” yelled Ryan as he handed the sniper rifle to Gavin.

 “Sniper!” said Gavin again as he handed Ray the gun.

 Ray shook his head then held out the gun, peering through the scope while holding the damn thing with one hand. The cross landed on Gruchy's head and he smirked. “One for the money.” Firing a bullet, the officer yelped and ducked back into the back seat. “Two for the show.” He fired a bullet into the windshield, narrowly missing the driver. “Three to get ready.” A bullet struck the lights on top. “And four to go.”

 The fourth bullet struck a front tire and it popped loudly like a balloon. All too quickly, they were out of the alley and driving down a highway still being constructed. It lead over a river into the second part of Los Santos.

 With a grin, Michael slammed on the pedal and Jack hollered loudly, grabbing the handle above his head for support. Geoff groaned in his unconscious state and rolled over – only to fall into Ryan's lap, who groaned and pushed tried to push him off, with no avail.

 The police car swerved from the suddenly lost wheel and nearly flipped the vehicle on it's side, stopping just before so.

 The Roosevelt shot up towards the highway, closing in on the end of the highway. The officers jumped out of their vehicle just as they were joined by the rest of the force in time to witness the Roosevelt knock away the Warning and Road Closed signs, ignoring all protests to continue, and drive off the edge of the unfinished highway.

 A moment of silence passed as the car sailed through the air, Gavin and Ray screaming as they flew off the top of the vehicle and were thrown through the air...and finally landed with a thud on a passing cruise ship under the unfinished bridge. Gavin and Ray hit the wooden platforms hard, sliding a few meters until they hit a wall. The Roosevelt hit the wood and flipped onto it's side, screeching to a loud halt.

 As the dust cleared, the driver's door opened and Michael heaved himself out and over the car, landing onto the wood floor of the cruise ship. One by one, all the passengers of the vehicle were pulled out (all seemingly uninjured from the accident) while Gavin and Ray tormented the police officers who were watching them from the edge of the broken highway.

 It wasn't long before they were joined by two females (a blonde and a redhead) with a guns slung over their backs and follow by a timid-looking man who was seemingly unarmed. “Like our getaway vehicle?” asked the redhead.

 “Ryan, what did you do?” asked the blond as she approached the unconscious Geoff and inspected the head wound.

 “Why does everyone assume _I_ always did something?” A pause. “I accidentally hit him with the truck door.” The timid male chuckled and Ryan shot him a look, only for the man to look away and continue his chuckling.

 “We'll set course for the warehouse. Seems we've lost them for the moment.” The redhead offered a smile, then turned on her heel and walked into cockpit, followed by Michael.

 There was a moment of silence before Ryan pumped a fist in the air. “Another successful heist!” Gavin and Ray cheered. Jack rolled his eyes.

 


	2. Three Idiots Walk into a Warehouse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I could switch between this one and Consequences of Obliviousness because I realized this story was way more popular than the other one, so... Here we go! Two at once. Summer's started, so I'm sure I can finish these.  
>  After a several month hiatus, I finally bring this back!  
>  On with the story!

 “Hush! Will you be quiet!?” came the voice of the driver cop, Burnie, from behind the bushes.

 “They can't hear us! They're inside,” snapped Gus.

 “Why did I hire you guys? I regret hiring you guys.”

 “Fuck off, Burnie.”

 “Gruchy, check.”

 An exasperated sigh from Gruchy. “Still nothin'.”

 “Told you,” whispered Gus.

 “You know what, Gus? No one asked for your opinion.”

 “No one asked for your opinion either!”

 Gruchy inhaled. “Activity in window three.”

 “But I'm the leader of this squad. I'm in charge of us. My opinion matters.”

 “And I'm in charge when you're not around. The only opinion that doesn't matter around here is Gruchy's.”

 An eye roll from the third wheel. “Wonderful. Thanks for that, mate. I'm glad I'm a welcome addition to the family.”

 “Any time.”

 Then Burnie pointed into the distance by the warehouse. “Guys, the door is open.”

 A pair of binoculars peeked out of the bushes, leaning forward slowly. The lenses glinted in the light of the warehouse, just barely catching the full moon in the reflection. There was a hush over the bushes that hid the three officers, then the leaves shook and Burnie, a tall man with glasses, emerged from the brush. “This is our chance!”

 It wasn't long before he was joined by his comrades, Gruchy and Gus. “Do you really plan to just walk in there and take the place by storm? I mean, this is the AH Crew we're talking about here.”

 “No, it's the  _ Fake _ AH Crew,” Burnie corrected. “Big difference.”

 “No difference!” Gus shot back. “They're the same damn people! They've carried off countless heists and murdered most of our men in broad daylight and cold blood. There is no way the three of us could take them all on at once.”

 “We'll be heroes!” cheered Burnie.

 “Our names'll be in lights!” Gruchy joined, sounding rather sarcastic and amused at the same time, with the appropriate body language to follow.

 “Not you, too, Gruchy. Please just say no.”

 “I thought my opinion didn't matter.”

 “For the love of--”

 After a few more minutes of arguing, they elected to go inside. (It was more like Burnie just started walking in and Gus and Gruchy had no choice but to follow to make sure the man didn't get himself killed.)

 The warehouse was large and old, and the entrance they had taken was dark. At least they could be sure that no one would come around that way. The trio each drew their guns and held them at their sides, preparing for any sudden change in plans.

 There was a round of laughter from the first room on the right, well lit and obviously occupied. Burnie ran up ahead and put his back to the wall just before the end of the wall, peering around the corner. He could only see three people from where he stood, so he waved Gruchy and Gus over, who mimicked his position (after a moment of slapping each other out of the way) and waited for his orders.

 Using his fingers, he counted down from five, then yelled, “Go, go, go!”

 All three burst into the room from around the corner, guns trained on the first three of the Fake AH Crew they could see. However, in the blind spot, was six more members of the Fake AH Crew – and one of them (Michael) had already drawn his weapon.

 There was a long silence.

 “Put your hands up!” Burnie yelled then, backed-up by a shaky, “Yeah!” from Gus. Gruchy rolled his eyes and debated lowering his gun.

 All nine members looked between themselves, then each of them produced a weapon from their pockets (save for two of the male blonds of the room).

 Another long silence shook the room, then Gus tossed his gun at the ground and then threw his hands in the air. “I quit!”

 Burnie sighed and also dropped his gun, raising his hands, while Gruchy failed to take a hint and continued to keep his aim. As soon as every crossheir was trained on him, he lowered his weapon then put his arms in the air, letting go of his pistol and it landed somewhere behind him. “I don't even wanna be here,” he insisted.

...

 It didn't take long for the gang to tie up the officers and shove them in a dark, abandoned room to be dealt with later. Ray, Ryan, and Geoff were all still laughing at the stupidity of the squad who wandered in alone without back-up while Michael and Jack displayed concern at the possibility of previously mentioned back-up making an appearance. Meanwhile, Gavin focused on getting drunk.

 “Did you not see those guys?” Geoff laughed, patting Griffon, the blond female, on the back – though it was Michael he was addressing. “The cops here are fucking stupid. It's probably the only reason Gavin hasn't been arrested yet.”

 “Hey, I take offence to that!” yelled the Brit drunkenly from the corner where he and Kerry were attempting a bad game of chess.

 “Yeah, whatever. Point is, we've got nothing to worry about.”

 Ray pipped up from his seat beside Lindsay, who was watching the TV. “Really, 'cause we're becoming a really big target for some assassins and stuff. Ya know, just saying.”

 “Ray, shut up.” The man shrugged and returned to the TV set. Geoff returned his eye contact with Michael and smirked. “The police are the least of our worries, Michael. In fact, our biggest worry is competition. We're not the only gang in Los Santos.”

 Michael threw his arms in the air. “And we know this because some assholes took  _ AH Crew _ already, so we're stuck with  _ Fake AH Crew _ for a name. Do you realize how fucking stupid that sounds?”

 Ryan pulled off his mask, rubbing at the black and red face paint he wore underneath to simply make himself seem more sinister. “You're really going to complain about this now? How long have you been apart of this gang for?”

 “I'm just saying, Ryan. Don't get your thong in a knot.”

 Jack sighed. “I'm going to go question them.”

 “Oh, me, too!” yelled Gavin from the back.

 Everyone groaned.

...

 The room lit up suddenly and all the officers groaned from the bright light in their eyes. “Bloody hell,” whispered Gruchy.

 “One of them is British!” yelled a drunk, cheerful voice from the whiteness. “Oh, where are you from?”

 “Gavin, no!”

 “I wanna know!”

 When his eyes adjusted to the light, Gruchy found himself staring into bright green eyes. “Uh...” he began quietly. “Thame?”

 “No bloody way! I am, too! Michael, ya hear that? We're born from the same place!”

 “Dammit, Gavin...”

 Ray threw his arms in the air. “There's too many of us in here. I'm leaving.”

 “Bye,” said Kerry.

 “Please take Gavin with you,” said three voices at once. Ray grabbed Gavin by the arm and hauled him out of the room.

 Everything was quiet for a moment then Jack clapped his hands together. “So... Cops, eh?”

 Geoff slapped a hand against a metal table behind the tied up officers. “You think you can just storm into the Fake AH Crew's territory and expect us to just calmly come with you to the station? _Well_ , didn't you have another thing coming.”

 “Didn't we,” Gruchy mumbled sarcastically.

 Gus narrowed his eyes at Geoff before shooting a glare at his boss. “Burnie gave us the signal that everything was good!”

 “I only saw three of them,” came Burnie's defense. “There was only three when I looked around the corner.”

 “Enough!” Geoff snapped. “Just answer the questions.”

 Gruchy scoffed. “What question?”

 “Shut up,” growled Michael and Gruchy rolled his eyes.

 Finally, the room fell to a collective silence (which was ideal if Geoff planned to question them). Aside from the cops, the only ones in the room now were Geoff, Kerry, Jack and Griffon. The rest remained outside, distracting themselves for the time being.

 “Alright,” Geoff began, clapping his hands together. “First things first. Whose the leader here?”

 Both Gruchy and Gus turned to Burnie, who tried to look at Gus. Then he glanced at Gruchy, then back at Geoff. “Fuck,” he said.

 There was a knock at the door, but it came in a rhythm that indicated that whoever was knocking was trying to be a nuisance. “Fuck, Gavin,” snapped a muffled voice and the knocking ceased.

 Geoff sighed irritably then continued. “Does the rest of the force know we're here?”

 “Like we'd tell you,” Burnie scoffed.

 The leader of the Fake AH Crew narrowed his eyes dangerously at the cop and the cop returned the glare. For a moment, they stared at each other, waiting for the other to crack but they never did. Finally, Geoff leaned back, but didn't break eye contact. “We have other methods of making you... talk.”

 But, before he could finish his threat, he was interrupted by the echo of an explosion somewhere outside and the whole building shook. Everyone was thrown to the ground, including the chairs that had held the officers prisoners. The shaking ceased momentarily and only did anyone dare to move when Ryan burst the door open. “Geoff! You have to come see this!” and he disappeared again.

 Geoff glanced once to the prisoners then he stood and stumbled out of the room after Ryan. The door slammed behind him and immediately, Gruchy wiggled out of the binds on his chair which had loosened when he fell. His hands were still tied behind his back, but he brought up his legs and swung his arms around to the front.

 “Hey!” Jack yelled, standing to stop him but Gruchy kicked him close to the hip area and the gun hidden under the bearded man's Hawaiian shirt flew loose. The free cop grabbed it and held it out with both his hands. Jack backed up and Gruchy immediately broke for the door.

 “No, wait,” came Gus's voice as Gruchy left. “come back for us!”

 In the main room, there was concrete and metal debris everywhere along the ground. Gavin was passed out on the floor (though from head injury or drunken decision remained unclear) and Michael, Ray, and Lindsey had opened fire on the helicopter that now replaced where part of the roof once was. The side doors opened and stood inside was an overwhelming gang of well-equipped men with gas masks dressed in a bright red.

 Four of those men pulled the pin on a cylindrical grenade and threw them down into the warehouse. Michael watched one of the grenades bounce close right between his feet and his eyes grew suddenly wide. “Shit! Teargas!” Everyone that had gathered in the room immediately scattered, running for the nearest exit. “Gavin, Gavin, get up!”

 Gruchy ran into the main room just as the tear gas canisters exploded (“Oh, shit!”) and he immediately decided to run back into the room where he just came from to avoid the gas.

 Several ropes were thrown down into the warehouse and, one by one, the men in red grappled to the floor. The minute their feet touched the ground, they scattered, breaking everything they could find and snatching money from hidden places.

 Michael was still trying to drag Gavin out of the tear gas but the drunken idiot just wouldn't wake up. Concluding Gavin must have hit his head at some point, Michael called out for back-up; “Ray! Come help me!” But he was lost in the white cloud of tear gas before he could even find Ray in all the chaos.

 “Michael! Where are you!?”

 “Ray!”

 His eyes were beginning to water and he couldn't help the coughing fit that took over his body. He spun, looking for someone, anyone, other than the passed out Gavin who was also coughing in his unconscious state. Instead, he was only met with the black eyes of a gas mask. The red suited man produced a pistol from his belt and trained it carefully on the maskless male. Michael stared back up at the barrel, wondering if this was how he really wanted to die; trying to save Gavin's drunken ass from tear gas.

 Slowly, the red-suited man lowered the pistol and instead opted to smack the AH member along the side of the head with the back of the gun.

 “Fuck,” Michael heaved as he smacked into the floor and was immediately met by darkness.

 (Which was a way better option than the white, gassy pain he could have been left to. So, good to those assholes who decided to bust a hole in the roof and drop tear gas into the warehouse. Good to them, who, Michael swears, he will find and shoot the minute he wakes up.)

 


End file.
